


The Familiarity Between the Owl and the Pussycat

by SapphicSpud



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Familiars, Fluff, Gen, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Witches, Original Character(s), Witches, sapphic witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23486290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphicSpud/pseuds/SapphicSpud
Summary: Séamus is a grumpy owl, familiar to the great witch Bathsheba. Unfortunately Bathsheba's girlfriend also has a familiar. A snotty, noisy, relentless cat. This is the story of their life with their witches.
Relationships: Bathsheba/Agnes, Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Séamus & Midnight
Kudos: 2





	1. Suffering Snotty Felines

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this prompt](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/charlesoberonn/187503174921).

"I said don't talk to me" Séamus fluffed his wings in annoyance, twisting round on the branch so that Midnight was out of his direct line of sight. What kind of a stupid name was Midnight anyway. Who called their familiar Midnight?

Séamus had nothing but respect for Midnight's witch, Agnes. Agnes was calm, collected and very sensible. All qualities which Séamus thought were essential in a species as silly as human beings. Sure, she may be a little cheery and chatty, but he forgave her that for the sake of his own witch, Bathsheba.

His goodwill did not extend to Midnight, the silky black cat that was incapable of leaving him alone for his very important thinking time. Séamus' time of contemplation, meditation if you will, was very important. As he told Bathsheba repeatedly, he was a very wise familiar, and wisdom took time and a significant amount of thinking. And yes that might look a lot like taking a nap but that's only if you look on the surface, thank you very much.

Midnight was the newest member of the family (even the word family made Séamus shiver in disgust), and still hadn't figured out that cat's were meant to be distant and mysterious, not bouncy and chatty.

Bathsheba told Séamus that he'd grow out of it, but as time went by the cat just seemed to get more and more noisy, and more and more attached to Séamus. He couldn't even enjoy a na...meditation without Midnight spoiling it.

Even turning his back on the feline achieved nothing, as he practically bounced over Séamus' head. Midnight brought his nose round to boop it against Séamus' nose as he took a little sniff.

If owls could forcefully exhale, Séamus would have let out an extremely exacerbated sigh. "Leave me be, snotty feline"

As per usual, the insult didn't even make a dent in Midnight's affectionate curiosity. 

"Séamus...why are your eyes closed." The cat shifted around, using his claws and his tail to try to find a comfy way to sit on the awkward branch. He almost ended up slipping off the branch. It would serve him right too, Séamus thought with satisfaction, even as he used his wing to help Midnight scramble back up.

"I'm thinking." Séamus answered.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Things that you wouldn't understand." Good, the more mysterious the better.

"Why wouldn't I understand them?"

"Because you're a snotty feline."

That earned Séamus a few moments of peace, and he had almost managed to drop off before Midnight was chirping again. "What's a feline?"

Right, this tactic was obviously not working. Séamus was tempted to fly off to another tree an acre or two away, he'd at least get some peace there. But there's no way he could trust the other familiar not to break his neck if he left him alone up in the tree. As tempting as that was, Séamus opted for number two. The good old fashioned silent treatment.

The silent treatment lasted through a full seven "Séamus!?"s said in varying tones and Midnight's paw touching his forehead until Séamus cracked. "STOP. Shut up I'm thinking."

"But what are you thinking about? And what's a feline."

Séamus let out a very low screech, and Midnight finally seemed to get the hint, settling down on the branch and starting to lick his paws. 

Again, the peace lasted roughly five minutes before Midnight was at it again. "Séamus, why is the sky blue?"

"Because it is"

"Why though?"

"Because it is."

"Why though?"

The conversation cycled around a few times, each familiar getting significantly more annoyed with every iteration.

Séamus stretched out his wings, angry at having to move, and flew up to a higher branch where he wouldn't be able to hear Midnight. Midnight seemed to get bored without a target for his questions, and clumsily half fell his way down to the bottom of the tree, disappearing with a crackle into the underbrush. 

Finally! Séamus wiggled his soldiers a little and fluffed up his feathers, settling down on his nice quiet branch for a nice quiet slee...contemplation.

His hard thinking was soon disrupted by a commotion. There was the sharp sound of rustling and what quickly became aggressive barking and a distressed squeaking noise. It took Séamus all of two seconds to recognise it as the same squeaking noise that Midnight made when he fell off the bed in the middle of the night.

Underneath Séamus' tree a small black blob streaked past, a white mass of growling fur on it's heels. Ahhh Hell. Séamus didn't waste a second. Without thinking, his powerful wings were lifting him into the air and he was soaring straight towards the wolf , talons scraping across the wolf's forehead as he darted in and pulled back up. 

The wolf, obviously not expecting an attack, stopped in it's tracks. It let out a low and dangerous growl, leaving Séamus questioning why he was putting himself at such risk for a snotty feline. Still he held his ground. He couldn't quite let himself bail on the little cat, and besides, Bathsheba would never forgive him if he did nothing.

The wolf sized up Séamus, and he stretched his wings out to their full length, trying to look as intimidating as possible, his little heart beating a scary rhythm. It seemed to work. The wolf hadn't been particularly hungry and had just seen Midnight darting around and thought it'd have a bit of fun. Not enough fun to face Séamus' talons apparently.

Giving another low growl, it padded off, looking for some other fun to have. 

It took Séamus a good few seconds to think about anything else but himself. He wasn't built for these tense situations. He was an owl of learning, of philosophy, not an owl of animal instincts and fear. Once his heart rate had slowed down he turned his head, desperately looking for Midnight. What if something had happened to the little toerag. What if the wolf had already injured him!

"Midnight?" He yelled "Midnight."

An almost imperceptible meow came from under the tree, and he saw Midnight's coal black fur where the cat was cowering.

"Wow Séamus, that was amazing!" There was enough awe in Midnight's voice to make Séamus distinctly uncomfortable. "You saved my life. You fought off like fifty wolves for me."

"Well you know." Séamus puffed himself up "It's all in a days work, when you're as experienced and worldly as me."

Séamus' warm glow of self importance wasn't even severely dented by Midnight saying "I'm never going to leave your side again."

"Come on snotty feline, let's get you home." Séamus patted Midnight gently on the head with his wing, determinedly ignoring the little purr that Midnight let out.


	2. Market Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The things witches suffer for their familiars.

There was always a bustling energy to Wednesday mornings. There was plenty to do, Bathesheba would be up at the crack of dawn to get the fire going, kissing Agnes goodbye even before she'd rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. 

Once the fire was sorted she needed to make sure that their little cottage was spotless, wiping down the fireplace, sweeping the floor of any debris, and collecting water from the stream to boil for when Agnes came back.

More and more flyaway hairs escaped out of her hair tie as the morning went on, and she'd undoubtably end up with smears of dirt across her cheeks. She was greying a little at the temple, Agnes affectionately referred to it as her 'salt and pepper' look. 

She and Agnus had known each other since their more youthful days. As the only two witches in the county it had been inevitable that they'd end up crossing paths, likely even becoming friends. The cohabitation and magical sex on the other hand, wasn't quite as inevitable. At some point swapping recipes and sharing herbs turned into furtive glances and little touches. Turns out you can get up to some serious naked mischief when spellcasting under moonlight.

They'd built a cosy home for themselves on the road out of town, close enough to the necessary stream and fields of herbs and wild flowers. And they'd had the same lazy routine for fifteen years, only disrupted by the odd crisis in town, or when they were asked for help by the villagers. Wednesdays were by far their busiest days as Wednesday'a were market days.

Bathsheba had assumed that Séamus and Midnight had hitched a ride into town with Agnes. Midnight loved the sounds and the smells of the Wednesday morning market, and loved the thrill of stalking the more wiley city rats, often complaining to Agnes about the pure ditsyness of the rats in the countryside. 

It always gave Bathsheba a little giggle to picture a flustered Agnes chasing round after Midnight, apologising to shop keepers as she tried to get her young familiar under control. Bathsheba had seen much older cat familiars who favoured similar highjinks, but hadn't had the heart to tell Agnes every time Agnes had muttered "It's okay. He'll grow out of it. Just be patient, just be...Midnight what have you got in your MOUTH?!"

It was unusual for Bathsheba's familiar to join Agnes and Midnight on a jaunt into town, but Séamus occasionally liked to travel with the cart. He'd sit atop the good natured donkey's head like a king atop a throne. Bathsheba had joked about him liking a birds eye view of the town, but safe to say it hadn't gone down well. He'd narrowed his bright eyes in a distinctly unimpressed manner. Séamus was simply not the kind of owl that you joked with, he liked to think he was much too dignified for that.

The high pitched screeches and rustling bushes outside the cottage window told Bathsheba that the familiars hadn't gone with Agnes. She couldn't hear Midnight's side of the conversation, as only a familiar's witch can communicate with a familiar, but judging from Séamus' side the two were in one of their usual tussles.

Séamus burst through the window twittering and going on and on about Midnight and all the uncouth things the cat had done. Bathsheba tuned most of it out, focusing on the herbs she was trying to organise into the correct order on the wall. She let out a low hum every once in a while to keep Séamus happy as he twittered on.

"...and then I saved that ungrateful runt, at great personal risk. And you know how he thanks me? Instead of coming back here to stay safe, he's back out playing at hunting. Are you even listening to me?"

"I don't know what to tell you, Séamus" Bathsheba sighed "You know what Midnight's like, you're the much older, and obviously much wiser and much cleverer one. It's upto you to guide him."

The response from Séamus could almost be described as a snort, but she new she'd managed to placate him a little.

A whistle came from down the hill, loud and unmistakeable. It prompted Bathsheba to stick her head out of the cottage, subconsciously straightening her apron and patting down her hair as she did. Even after fifteen years Angnes still took her breath away. This warm spring morning Agnes had opted to wear some soft leggings , her short hair hidden under her oversized hat. She always was one to set the locals' tongues wagging. She pulled the cart to a stop, jumping off to give Bathsheba a quick kiss, before uncoupling the donkey from the cart, and taking it off to the field.

This routine was familiar enough to each of them that not a word needed to be spoken. Bathsheba unloaded the box of herbs from the cart, carrying them inside and carefully pinning them into their correct places on the wall. All the while, Séamus gave her his best scathing look.

"Honestly Séamus, you'd have so much more fun if you just let your feathers down." Séamus chose that moment to very deliberately turn his back on her "Oh you know what I mean.

Agnes came in with the rest of the boxes, careful to take her boots off so as not to mess up Bathsheba's hard work "What's wrong with Séamus? 

"Ah, the usual" the two witches shared a secret smile.

An indignant hoot came from Séamus when Midnight's head popped out from behind Agnes' heels, leading to a chuckle from the witches. Midnight jumped up onto the window ledge in an attempt to get closer to Séamus, knocking off some of the herbs in the process, and managing to block out the sunlight that Séamus had been bathing in.

The witches settled in for a domesticated afternoon of potion brewing. If there were a few stolen kisses along the way, well then, that was all part of the process. 

The owl closed his eyes to settle down for some serious afternoon philosophising. His perch was nice and comfy, and the cottage was warm and toasty. He could just feel himself drifting off. Mmmm nice thoughts about mice and flying and...

"Séamus, you never told me. Why is the sky blue?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the first original work I've posted, one of those 2am brief flashes of inspiration. Hoping to write more soon (mayyybe more on this fic).
> 
> Kudos much appreciated, as are comments etc.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Two introduces the witches.


End file.
